All Screwed Up
by Silvie-chan
Summary: Let everyone else has their happy endings: Seymour’s at least moderately content with his death, his anger, and his hate.


All Screwed Up

By Silvie-chan

Disclaimer: FFX isn't mine. Neither is the concept of high-school fics, thank God.

Summary: ((Let everyone else has their happy endings: Seymour's at least moderately content with his death, his anger, and his hate.)) Because we see all those "high-school" fics about Yuna, Tidus, and Rikku, but none about Seymour.

* * *

I really do dislike high-school fics on a whole. They are exceedingly immature, and kind of fake. We've got the angsty Yuna who's either popular, or at the bottom rung of the social ladder. I really dislike the latter types of fics, because I _have_ been there and I _know_ what it's like, and those fics are not only badly written pieces of trash, but they also spit in my face because they're bastardizing one of the hardest times of my life.

So...I wrote this, while listening to the song "Father of Mine" by Everclear.

It's morbid, rather depressing, and it doesn't have a happy ending. It also hints at domestic violence, but not in an abusive way (sort of). That bit was inspired by a series of fics by the esteemed author "Yami no Eyes." I don't think it happened in the game, but I do think that shoved several centuries into the future, there would be a bit of violence between Seymour and Jyscal.

And now I give you, _All Screwed Up_. Read, review, and hopefully enjoy.

* * *

He's one of those angry boys. He doesn't pay attention in school, and has no respect for the authority of his teachers. He's gotten in trouble so many times it's a wonder he hasn't gotten thrown in Juvie for it. He wears his hair long just to piss his father off, and he beats up the boys that dare call him a fag because of it.

He's not a nice boy. He curses all the time, and the other kids won't talk to him anymore, because all he'll talk about is death.

He used to be a nice boy, though. A few years ago, you wouldn't be able to think that he would grow up to be like _this_.

He hasn't been the same since his mother died, and his father got remarried. They fight a lot. They curse and scream each other, and break the heinously expensive furniture.

Once, in one of their many fights, his father pushed him down the sweeping marble stairs of their mansion. He almost died from it. His father was torn apart with guilt and sorrow that he had almost killed his _son_. They didn't fight for a long time after that, although, inevitably, it started up again.

He blames his father for his mother's death.

His father blames him for the death of his childhood sweetheart.

He hates his father's new wife, and their children--after all, she was just some stupid bitch trying to take Mother's place--and he wishes they would just fucking _die_. He hates his stepmother because she's just a stupid fucking whore; who else would touch his father with a ten-foot pole? He hates his stepbrothers because they're tag-along brats from another marriage of the bitch who thinks she can replace Mother.

He hates himself too. He's started to wear long-sleeved shirts, and if not those, huge amounts of metal bracelets and spiked cuffs, to hide the cuts, and the scars. Not that he's ashamed of them; no, never. They tell a story, _his_ story.

Pain is the path to death, and death is the purpose of life. This is his creed.

He just doesn't want some stupid bint with a medical degree to tell him how to live his life.

He plays his guitar--he's so proud that he bought it with _his_ money that he had earned from his after school job, and not the stinking shit of his father's--when he's angry, frustrated, or upset. He's not very good at it, because he's never had lessons, but it's soothing, sort of, to pluck at the strings with his over-long fingers. Fingers that aren't right, fingers that have blue nails (if he hasn't painted them black recently).

He hates his hands. Too long, too dangly, and _not_ normal. He's not Guado, and he's not human, and he fucking hates it.

He'll bring in stray cats that come on their doorstep, mewing piteously for someone to let them in. He has a whole gaggle of cats that flounce around the house, and he loves them all. He and his father fight about the cats a lot. Violently. His stepmother will quietly sneak out of the room, like she always does when her husband and stepson are fighting.

Usually, the fights end with some sort of broken furniture, and a few bruises. Sometimes, his arm will get broken from dodging a chair is father threw, and sometimes he'll punch his father so hard that his nose will break. It's almost immature the way they fight over everything, and nothing at all.

But, as they always do, the fights blow themselves over, and they will coldly apologize to each other, and will stalk off to return to their respective lives, quietly hating each other.

At night, he'll sneak out his window, and will go to the clubs. He'll come home drunk, high off of only Yevon knows what. The nights when he doesn't go out raves, the clubs, or the bars, he'll get drunk off of his father's booze. His father has long since stopped caring what his son does to himself. After all, it would be better if he died; everyone would be happier, and that was that.

He's going to break one of these days. He's going to explode, and he's going to take someone with him. He's a walking time bomb, just waiting to go off. He'll finally snap, and kill someone, then himself for good measure.

Because he's one of those angry boys, and he's running the path of self-destruction, and he doesn't know how to stop. He doesn't _want_ to stop.

There's nothing left in life for him anyone.

After all, who cares what Seymour Guado is feeling today? He's just a stupid, rich, gothic fag. He's not like the rest of them, and he hates blitzball. He's smart, but he couldn't care less about his grades. He pushes away anyone who tries to get close; don't even bother. Let everyone else has their happy endings: Seymour's at least moderately content with his death, his anger, and his hate. 

He's picked his path; now leave him alone, and worry about something more important.

**_Owari_**

Now, take that, you damn Seymour bashers. Write a high-school fic where he's just an angry bastard who hates blitzball, and everyone else, then leave him alone. Create some other jackass for your Yuna/Tidus plot device, or whatever you need. Just _stop_ bashing him. It's fucking annoying.

Remember this: bashing is stupid, immature, and utterly senseless. It's all right to dislike, even hate a character, but you needn't needlessly bash them. That's just plain stupid. So. Now that you're done, why don't you review? If you do, I'll loff you forever.

Silvie


End file.
